I got to say, the ability to time travel would be sweet.

Like hella sweet.

Think about it this way. If you were to say, forget something that happened years ago, bam go back a see it from a third person's view. Or go a watch something important before it happens and you know what to change to avoid it.

Those are some of the pros of time traveling, but what about the cons? If you go too far ahead, you could kill yourself, and if you go too far back, you could kill everyone else. It's all about the viruses. If you don't have proper immunization, you could wipe out an entire race by traveling too far back in time. Also, what if someone sees you and recognizes you? What if you leave and then come back a week (or longer) later than planned? Everyone would think that you were kidnapped or disappeared off the face of the earth!

Though I think the ability to time travel would be really cool, I think I would just stay in my own time.

It's set for 1859 and the door is closed, I'm sitting down. Rubbing hands nervously, I reach out and turn the machine on, listen to its hum, feeling the vibration around me and through me.

Looking through the thick plate-glass, I see my time evaoprate, as if vaporizing. 2018 is gone. Going back, back, back.

I catch a glimpse of Martin Luthor King, John Kennedy, even Elvis when he was young and I don't think famous, yet.

Buildings, roads, landscape change rapidly.

Cars made of steel, fishtails, wide plexi-glass lights. Girls in bobby-socks. Soldiers taking off to fight Hitler. The past is moving quickly.

A group of Klansmen with torches, backwood stills making white lightning, men dressed in flannel suits. Women in to the ankle dresses.

Time is flying by to the past.

Will I be happy seeing my great-grandfather? I know not to tell him who I am as I know he wouldn't believe me, but I brought my camera to take a picture of him. The man I often heard much about but because of time, never would have had the chance to meet him.

Slowing down. All I can see is a thick gray. Like a fog in old London town. The machine stops. I have arrived.

Standing, not feeling out of sorts, I open the hatch door and step out and that is when I heard the noise. The yelling and screaming, and—gunfire.

People are running in every direction, but from what? What the devil is going on?

I see people in hand-to-hand in fighting, people shot or clubbed to death. I hear words like southern sympathiser, and, damn you yankees. But the Civil War is still a good eight months away from starting. Or, is it that there were smaller wars/skirmishes, history never told us about?

And then I see him. I have heard his description thousands of times and would know him anywhere.

I walk toward him when he turns suddenly, a musket in his hands and points it directly at me and fires. I feel the ball tear through my chest and feel my body plummet to the hard-packed patch of dirt. It burns, badly.

As people run by and over me, and the blood seeps from my chest, I roll to my side to get back to the Wayback Ride, but I can't see it for the thick clouds of smoke from all the shooting going on. Then, only two thoughts crossed my mind that will die with me. I did get to see my great-grandfather, and I should have never done this.

My whole life I’ve never known my father.

I would like to go back in time to before I was born and meet him.

Have you seen the movie Meet the Robinsons?

Theres a part where the main character does just that.

But when the time comes for him to say something he just watches.

I think that would happen to me.

I wouldn’t know what to say.

What would I say?

I’ve always been told to approach everything with love.

Would I tell him I love him?

Or would I yell at him for being gone my whole life.

I think I’d just stare at him.

Take a good look at his face.

To know that’s where I came from.

Then I’d be finally be content to come back.

Looking into the eyes of someone with Alzheimer’s is not something you ever forget. I’m staring at my grandma, who once used to cook for me after school and watch Jeopardy with me. I swear, she knew all the answers. I don’t even know how that’s possible. She’s got freckles all over her face, sun spots down her arms, wrinkles galore, and her peppered hair is blossoming out around her on the pillow. I want to say she’s beautiful, and she is, but there is nothing beautiful about the disease keeping her trapped. Her eyes are staring at the ceiling, darting back and forth, and there’s fear on her face. Shifting her gaze, she stares back at me, and that’s all. She’s not looking at me, just staring. For a brief moment, I can see emotion, a shimmer of recognition. But then I realize that’s just me hoping. She’s gone. Her mind is diseased. She doesn’t know who the fuck I am.

My grandpa is being taken care of elsewhere. His is dementia. Same damn thing. I look at him, he stares back and he looks like he’s about to cry. I want to think it’s because he’s happy to see me. But I can’t read the mind of someone whose mind is broken. He’s in a reclining chair, “watching” basketball on television. I smile,r eminiscing, because if it wan't Jeopardy at Grandma's house, we were watching Papa's sports. Good 'ole days. The veins in his legs are popping, and even sitting, he still looks tall as ever. He used to have hair, a big bald spot in the middle with the rest of it neatly combed down on the sides. But he's just completely bald now. He's not even wearing his glasses. I mean, what' the point of seeing if you don't even remember who you are I guess.

Take me back.

Bring me back to their house.

Papa just picked me up from school and now we're sitting in the living room watching Jeopardy.

He's in his usual green, worn out chair. It doesn't recline, but I like this one better. Grandma is popping off the answers before the contestants can.

When they look at me, they see me. They talk to me. They call me by my name.

I just wanted to relive this part one more time. I don't want to forget like they did.

The ability to time travel is one that I've dreamed about since I was a little kid. All of the people you would be able to meet, all things you would be able to verfiy, and all of the activities you could try as they are first being invented. It would be awesome to go back to the moment where the first game of soccer was ever played, meet George Washington as he came back the victor of the Revolutionary War, or even go back to a time where no buildings even existed. Knowing the knowledge I do know, I could lead and create an empire that would be unbeatable in compariosn with the rest of the world. I would know exactly what areas of the world had the best natural resources, and know exactly which countries to conquer before they ever become too powerful. However, I think I would go back in time to when the first soccer World Cup took place.

Being a humongous fan of soccer, this would be an amazing opportunity. I could see the best players when soccer was first invented, and compare my play to theirs. Also, being that I'm 17, I'd try to particpate as well. Imagine, my first World Cup is the first World Cup. All the fans, all the hype, I'd imagine it being absolutely perfect. I already love playing the game of soccer, but this would just be on an entirely new level. Hopefully, I would be able to turn the tides of history and beat Uruguay so that they never win the first World Cup, and I do. Now that's a story to tell, I went back in time and won the biggest tournament in the entire world.

I know my time travel opportunity may seem wasted to most people reading, but this is something that I know I would enjoy and love. I don't need power, fame, or to get ahead of anybody, I just want to have a good time, and I know that going to 1930 would do that for me.

My time capsule's spinning finally stopped after four trecherous days. When the last revolution came to an end, I let out a ragged sigh of relief because the lonely wait inside my cramped time machine was finally over. Four days inside a vessel that measures only ten feet by twenty feet is enough to try the sanity of anyone, but the self imposed imprisonment was an absolute necessity. After all, deceleration from the speed of light must be done very carefully. Stop too fast and my titanium armored vessel would have been vaporized and its broken atoms launched through space and time. Still, I spared a moment for a small smile of triumph. I had done it. I created a vessel that had not only achieved speeds that up until now were impossible for anything made of matter, but also launched myself back in time to the moment of humanity's genesis.

Before I released the air lock that had kept me alive for four days, I took a tense moment to double check the time-navigation computer. If I had gone back too far, I might step out onto an Earth that had not yet achieved a breathable atmosphere. The time-navigation computer registers that I was exactly when I wanted to be. Earth should now be able to support higher life forms.

"Well, I should be able to breathe," I whispered to myself as I nervously hit the switch that released the air lock. A loud hiss indicated that the air lock had disengaged and I was finally free to leave my physics defying vessel. After manipulating another two switches, the hatch to my time machine opened. Almost immediately, I was hit by the cleanest ocean air that had ever entered human lungs. It was a welcome change from the recycled air I had been forced to breathe for the last ninety-six hours. Unable to wait any longer, I nearly ran up the ladder, my curiousity to see the prehistoric world and the desire to excape my titanium vessel had driven away the last shred of my isolation induced weariness. When I reached the top of the ladder I breathed another sigh of relief. My calculations were also correct about where my vessel stopped. I knew that my final destination had to be a very specific shoreline located along a very ancient ocean. The ocean air and the sea shore I see as my head clears the hatch confirms that my calculations contined to be correct.

There was no time for more self-congratulations. I only had moments to complete the task that led me to spend my entire life in search of the means to travel back in time. The time was near and I could not be late. There would be no second chance to fix time's most horrible wrong. With grim resolve filling my heart, I quickly lept down onto the sandy beach and dashed towards the breakers.

I was just in time. Out of the surf, the first air breathing being on Earth hauled itself onto the shore. About three feet long, it had the body of a fish, but its pectoral fins were bulkier, allowing it to heave its scaled body further onto solid land. It didn't seem to notice me. It was too preocupied by the task of heaving its grayish body further onto land to notice that it was being watched. Shaking off my amazement, I rushed up to it and paused just long enough to second guess myself. Was this really necessary? What I planned to do will change history. No it will change life itself.

Then I remembered. Wars, hatred, genocide, Justin Beiber, humanity has been a dismal failure. Mother Earth deserved a second chance to get it right. So, with a sigh, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the loaded syringe. Before I gave myself the chance to rethink my decision, I reached down and injected the syringe into the first terrestrial creature to ever brave leaving its watery home. The walking fish twitched once and died.

The timeline for evolution was reset. If humanity were to get a second chance it would have to start in another form. A form that I prayed would have greater capacity for benevolence, a greater ability to love, and most importantly, better taste in music.

“Don’t drink with Patrick” my maid continued to follow me across the room. “You know it’ll be the death of you.” Sure enough, a few weeks later I was facing a dilemma of whether I should allow the man a drunken toast. What happened later I don’t recall; just boundless spaces and waves as I plummeted further and further into the underworld of the matrix becoming one with all these fragmented energies in unison as they became more compact the further I fell.

I woke up in a space station with the slight recall of the waves of a seaside escape from a massive institution on an island. I had found the exit I had memorized and led everyone off the building through an emergency escape ladder. But now I’m in a space station that is completely deserted. It’s a giant warehouse full of robots and giant computers. There are two people with me who advise me not to look at the cameras on the machines because they’ll laser chip my pupils; and apparently all of these technicians ruined humanity and I’m on the last of it which is a Russian space station trapped in a vortex in space spinning forever in an illusion of material reality.

The rest of people are ghosts bound by their own shadows and time. Yes our race actually caused evolution to decline through pollution from advanced technology. But when I let the laser beam suck me into the matrix I saved a child from falling and she became my angel in the future when the triangle police found the laser gun and shot a hole through the fabric of existence.

Basra was a populated city in the Roman occupied Syria in the Arabian Peninsula. There was a church of Monk Gargis, mostly known as Bahera, located on a hilltop there. Bahera was also an expert on the previous Holy Scriptures, including the Torah and Gospel of Jesus. For this reason, people came from almost everywhere and from nearby areas.

After the death of Grandfather, child Muhammad (S) continued to grow at the house of his Uncle in Makkah. Uncle used to love him and Muhammad (S) also used to help him in various affairs. Uncle Abu Talib was a businessman, and he went to Syria every year for business work. Once Muhammad (S) asked him to go with him and he could not ignore. Muhammad (S) was 12 years old then. After reaching Basra on the way to the journey, Abu Talib stopped the caravan and tented. Monk Gargis was especially attracted to the caravan. The farsighted priest, looking at him and talking to him, recognized Muhammod (S) as the last prophet metioned in the previous Holy Scriptures. He invited all the caravans in the honor of the child Muhammad (S). Abu Talib accepted his invitation. At the same time, the priest Bahera forbade Abu Talib to take Muhammad (S) to Syria because the Jews and Christians could harm him there. The meeting happened in the shade of a tree. It is astonishing that fourteen hundred years later that same tree is discovered still alive in the northern deserts of Jordan. The only tree alive in hundreds of square miles of emptiness. This tree is a reminder of the close links between the Abrahamic religions and a link to the life of the Prophet.

However, if I could, I would take part in the arrangement as the priest’s pupil. Perhaps, the priest could find me any way to end the crusades in recent times.

I didn't mean to leave. Now I don't know how to get back. I don't remember how I got here. I was sitting in the lab with my co worker, suddenly I black out and I wake up here.

Where am I? I see a man running towards me. He's considerable shorter than I am. But that might be because he's running on all fours, like my dog. I'm puzzled, but as he gets closer I noticed him running faster. I realize that standing there like a deer in headlights probably isn't the best decision. So I run. I run as far and my stupid PhD legs will take me. It's moments like these I wish I would've done sports in high school, or college, or went to the gym, or at least watched sports. When I can no longer run I look behind me, and the strange little man had given up, or at least he wasn't there. So I keep walking scanning my surroundings for the little man. Not noticing the giant pile of brush I stumble through. On to fine a collection of rocks. They blue, and purple, and shimmer as the sun hit their edges. They are the strangest rocks I've ever seen in my life. They're just barely taller than me and not wide. As my curious takes over I start to examine the rocks. I tap once perfusely. It makes a weird sound. Almost hollow sounding, but a much higher pitch. Then I feel an earthquake coming on and the sky gets considerably darker. So I look up to see a creature. He scaly, and hard maybe 10 stories high or larger. I didn't look for long before I started hiding between the rocks.

When the rocks start to shake and crack I realize something I should've realized earlier. They're not rocks. They are eggs. Children to the mother that is blocking the sunlight from hitting my skin.

Only then do I realize, I'm living amoungst dinosaurs.